No One Close and Nothing Compares in the end
by planetofmars
Summary: 'There isn't a lot that New York can't offer, Tony muses, but time is not one of them.' Or where Captain America was never frozen, and Tony grows up practically in love with him.


**Title: **No One Close and Nothing Compares (in the end)

**Summary: **'There isn't a lot that New York can't offer, Tony muses, but time is not one of them.' Or where Captain America was never frozen, and Tony grows up practically in love with him.

**Universe: **AU. I suppose 616 and a bit of the movieverse would be as close as I got, though.

**Rating: **Restricted.

**Warnings: **I would say age difference, but not really.

**Beta: **No one I know is familiar with the greatness that is Tony and Steve, so no :/

_****_

_**No One Close and Nothing Compares (in the end)**_

There isn't a lot that New York can't offer, Tony muses, but time is not one of them. With a reputation like his, you would think Tony Stark, of all people, would not be troubled at the prospect of being lost to a silly thing such as time, but that isn't what troubles him now. After all, Tony Stark was unforgettable. With a sigh, Tony begins a mental count down of when he knows Steve will arrive. The timeless wonder, himself.

Captain America. Steven Rogers. Steve.

Tony had met Captain America at the age of fourteen, but he had known Steve all of his life. Howard Stark, Tony believes, was efficient at protecting future investments, and what better way to protect such a high stakes gamble than by assigning Captain America himself to protect and look after it. Tony, of course, was the investment and Cap, or Steve as he had always known him, was his keeper…or god father as they had deemed it. Tony's eyes flicker to the buildings that line his view, what did it matter now? Just about everyone he knew during that time was dead, and he was heading in the same direction, and Steve…well, Captain America truly was ageless.

A super solider. Steve.

:::

Taking a seat, Tony allows for memories to settle in, he can't help but to reminisce, but he has the feeling that the alcohol he has consumed is helping in that process instead of hindering it this time around. He remembers bits and pieces of his childhood, selective memory some would say, but he remembers being rambunctious almost to the point of overbearing. Tony never behaved that way around Steve, though, something about the gentle giant had made a young Tony want to behave, seek out his approval. Steve was always there it seemed, and Peggy, too. Tony remembered her well…remembered her smell and how she danced with him in the dinning room. When he thinks of Peggy, he can't help but wonder if Steve regrets it.

Regrets becoming the poster boy for American ideals; carrying such a heavy burden over the top of his head, holding it there forever.

Steve, as Tony had known him, was a normal guy with a not so normal outlook on life. Tony accused him once or twice of being too mothering, usually only when Steve caught him red handed doing something he wasn't suppose to. Tony was always getting into things he wasn't meant to, and that's how, at the age of fourteen, he learned of Steve's other persona. A part of him he was never meant to, but there were few things that were ever off limits for long to Tony. A late business meeting, that was what his father had said when he left implicit instructions for him not to leave his room.

It was well past eleven o'clock, Tony remembered. The time was plastered on the wall as a storm carried its way over their heads, crashing upon the roof with much noise. The hail that pelted along his window drove him out of the room, seeking a distraction. Slowly, ever so slowly, he had crept down stairs, bare feet touching down softly on carpeted floors. When he heard two distinct voices, one his fathers and the other unknown, Tony had duct into one of their spare bedrooms, a guest room of sorts, and came face to face with his childhood hero who also happened to be his god father. Till this day, Tony doesn't know who was more surprised; him or Steve. The cowl of his costume was pushed back, the leather crinkling and glistening from the rain that had settled down some. Those eyes, those almighty azures, had held Tony in a vice like grip.

Tony had wanted to articulate himself, say anything that might explain why he was there other than snooping, but no words formed. Steve, Captain _Fucking_ America, had approached him, still holding him hostage with that piercing gaze he only say pictured in the posters hanging in his room. Tony had barely been able to meet that look of his, mouth open and sputtering complete and utter nonsense. Steve had placed a gloved finger over his own lips, indicating to Tony he ought to be quiet. Tony stopped talking, would do whatever Steve told him, whatever Captain America ordered him to do. With incredulous blue eyes, Tony continued to stare in amazement.

His idol. His dream. Steve.

"You weren't suppose to know," he had informed him, a thoughtful frown to his face that pinched his forehead together. "Not now…not yet. Tony, _Anthony_, promise to keep my secret."

Tony shook his head of course, but Steve; Captain America, he repeated tossing it around his brain, did not appear satisfied. "Promise me," he had said again, just as serious as the first time. Tony, meeting Steve's gaze, did as told. "I promise, hand over my chest. I'll recite the pledge of allegiance if I have to."

Steve merely grimaced, this was not something he wanted him to know. "Go back to your room, and don't leave until morning."

Tony followed his instructions, and why he listened, he didn't know, not even his father had that type of control. Tony didn't sleep that night nor the next. Things changed after that little incident, Tony noted solemnly. At fifteen, he had entered into MIT and only saw Steve on birthdays. That, however did not quell Tony's desire for either Captain America…or Steve. The untouchable American hero who slay villains and carried the American people on his back, each tear meaning something to him; each scream and each laugh.

Steve was a much more complex individual than his secret identity, much harder to place and pick apart. It drove Tony up the wall.

:::

The poster he kept hidden within his closet was a well kept secret. The obsession was sick, but the love was much more painful to deal with. The pleasure he received as his hand would splay down his taunt stomach, stroking himself to that image. Biting his lip and tossing his head back, imagining Steve doing things to him, having him do things, teaching him things. Tony would come to the image of Steve inside him; licking and sucking, kissing and biting. Name on the tip of his tongue remained anonymous as it died in his throat, lost in a teenage fantasy.

It was absurd, he would admit, but things that were forbidden had always held a unyielding appeal to him that he couldn't refuse but to seek after whatever it was.

Probably the most profound moment of his young life that Tony remembers would have to be his eighteenth birthday. Now, there wasn't much to be remembered, but enough. An adult, he was finally an adult and his first matter of being an adult, he had decided, was to get thoroughly shit faced. The friends he had hung out with supplied him with unlimited options, having some wealth to your name had its benefits. By the end of the night, the crowd had all disappeared, leaving a staggering young Stark to stumble his way back to his dorm room. Tony had almost made it up the two flights of stairs, or at least, in his mind he had, when two strong arms had encircled his waist; Tony didn't have to look to know who it was.

Steve's strength had never changed with time.

Steve had that face; that disapproving, you could do better then this type of face. Tony wanted to wipe that look clean off because, what did he know? Tony had allowed himself to basically be dragged up the rest of the way, and when he had made it to the door, he all but yelled at Steve to let him go. Once the door was shut, and Tony was propped up against the wall, sitting in the middle of his bed, eyes blearily staring at Steve who looked far from impressed. Steve barely looked a day over twenty-five, and how did he expect to keep him from stumbling upon that little fact?

Tony would learn later on that Steve had planned to practically disappear from his life, and what a great day that had been.

Tony was drunk, but sober enough to know that what he craved most…desired most was right in front of him, scolding him for being reckless. Tony didn't care, couldn't be bothered with anything other than somehow getting his hands on him. "What were you thinking, Tony?" he questioned, mouth set in a tight line. Always the same.

"Sorry, _Cap_, guess I'm not as responsible as you are," he retorted, short and quick before he realized what he had said. He bit his tongue, cursing himself as Steve visibly tensed. Tony knew he had crossed a unspoken line, and before he could explain, Steve had him up by his collar, looking at him intently.

Believe it or not, a lot of Tony's late night fantasies had started out this way.

"You're a adult now, you need to start behaving like one." Steve's grip was tight, and he had him nearly off the floor when Tony decided to do something not entirely thought out.

"Okay, I'm an adult now right, Steve? This is a big boy thing to do then," Tony had said right before pressing his lips roughly against his. A moment later, he was dropped on his ass, almost too afraid to look up at him. Steve appeared to be frozen to the spot in which he stood. When Tony looked back up to his face, he did so with an unapologetic expression. The first of many.

"That's…that's unacceptable," he said, arms crossing over his chest as if to protect himself, as if he needed it.

Tony stared at him blankly. "Why?" he had asked, like it was the easiest question to answer. "I'm eighteen now…"

"Tony!"

"What?"

"No."

"But why? Why not?"

"I'm your god father for Christ's sakes…."

"You're not doing a very good job," Tony had chastised, and yeah, that might have been below the belt.

Steve had appeared affronted, like he had been dealt a hit unmatched by even his greatest of foes. That lasted a brief moment, and Tony often wondered if his inebriated mind had made that up…a comfort to deal with the heart ache that had withstood the test of time. The last words he heard from him that night were, "You're absolutely right."

Tony had single handedly destroyed his dream, and not surprisingly, his self sabotage didn't end there.

:::

"Mr. Stark," Pepper's voice cuts through his thoughts, jotting him back to the present.

"Yes, Miss. Potts?"

"Captain America will be arriving in less than two hours."

"Duly noted."

Pepper left without another word, her heels clicking against the floor. Tony briefly thought about sound proofing them, but thought better of it. The tension was spot on, nothing more than what was necessary was said. Obviously, everyone knew what mood he was in today. The last thing he needed was a reminder, the _tick tock _that relayedin his brain was all he needed.

Captain America; the hero without folly.

:::

Steve appeared less and less until he was gone altogether. Of course, he knew Steve still spoke with his father, but he wasn't around for all of that. The determination to do better, be better, was always in the back of his mind; Steve's voice taunting him with its sincerity. A genius, it was what he was in the sense that nothing really stood in his way, but the matters of the heart, a young mans lust for things; Tony was never able to figure that out. It was beyond him, the notion of being an abiding citizen with a _normal_ life.

When his parents had passed away, he remembered the seasons had been in the midst of changing from winter to spring, and he remembered the sun shinning bright with life as it rained. Tony remembered not crying; whether he didn't want to or couldn't, he didn't know. Steve was there, the first time he had seen him, and not merely heard of him in over two years. Peggy wasn't there, but the woman was on the higher end of sixty, and Tony couldn't imagine wanting her to go through such an ordeal. He missed the way she smelled, though. Tony had tried his hardest to ignore the man who had made him so happy and so completely miserable.

Steve had clasped his shoulder, and the anger Tony had been holding in, collecting in the pit of his stomach for most of his life, came pouring out; it was in bad taste that he lashed out in such a setting, but he would blame such things on grief. Slighted, Steve had pulled him outside, giving them a place to hide and quite possibly hug it out, because hey, Captain America could solve anything with just his sensible words, right? That wasn't the case, that wasn't what Tony had wanted. "Just stop! Stop talking," he had yelled, on the verge of ripping his own hair out. Steve did stop talking, head hung slightly.

Steve thought he had failed with him, and he was right, but it wasn't his fault.

"You don't get to come back after two years and tell me how to live my life, Steve, that's not how it works," he had said, edging Steve's name on the tip of his tongue to make it sound distasteful.

"Tony…" his voice was soothing, hand ruffling through his hair before cradling his cheek in a large hand, Tony had automatically leaned into the touch.

"Right and wrong, that's how you live your life," Tony had said, blue eyes peering intensely at his childhood hero, friend and off handed mentor. Tony wasn't a child anymore, he didn't have to look up as high as he use to, but the image was the same. "What if there's a gray area, huh?"

Steve pulled his hand away slowly, and it was clear; the tug of war he was going through. "This is wrong," he said, voice low and careful. If it had been anyone else, Tony would have played on that doubt. The rain started again, and with a glance at his watch indicated it was going on twelve in the afternoon; no time for a funeral. Tony had no choice but to go back inside to greet death and grief, and people he knew little and cared for even less. It was the worse day of his life for more reasons than one.

Steve remained by Peggy's side until the day she died, and while Tony had attended the funeral he had kept himself unseen in the background. The shame he felt was new, and it hurt, and he did his best to forget it. That smell would never be duplicated, and the warm feeling he had felt while dancing had dimmed. He felt like shit, and felt like it was best to disappear. There were things to be done, and he slipped away as fast as he could, even though he knew he was noticed.

:::

Tony remembered throwing himself into his work, countless hours spent perfecting everything he could. The imprisonment and rise of Iron Man was a topic he only talked about if he had a few too many and some poor soul was there to watch him. The armor allowed him to be and to do things he otherwise couldn't. Retaining a secret identity was a lot more taxing then he thought it would be. The Avengers were formed with his help, and while Steve said nothing, it was obvious he disapproved of Tony helping them, even if he only thought it was financially. If he had known he was Iron Man at that time, he surely would have killed him, but that was a secret Tony was able to keep for a while.

Under the guise of Tony's personal body guard, he was able to see a side of Steve, Captain America included, he hadn't been able to before, that included his brief jealousy that Iron Man was suppose to look after Tony when that had been his mission from the time he was born. Steve talked more in depth about the Stark's and what they meant to him, and what Tony meant to him specifically. The pride he had taken in him, the fondness he had developed for the younger Stark's rambunctious nature. "A lot more like his dad then he cares to admit," he had said. Steve was able to put a lot of things into perspective for Tony, and if he hadn't been completely enamored with him before, he most certainly was after that conversation. Carrying Steve around, calling him Cap without being reprimanded, it was something so great and fragile…he knew it would break. To his benefit, that didn't occur for quite sometime, or Steve had just played dumb for that long.

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

:::

"Jesus Christ, Tony," Steve had exclaimed, it wasn't often that Captain America was so openly astonished, even if he had a hunch, it was still just that.

"Hey, Cap," had been his response, dark hair disheveled. Steve only stared at him, fingers clutching so tight at the bend of his arm that Tony feared it would snap. Tony was reminded of a time Steve had told him that his mind was his greatest asset. Tony believed it had everything to do with being awful at conventional things that people took so much pride in because their children were mediocre, but it had rung true.

The ultimate personification of the perfect human male, and the man who had suffered more heart attacks than people twice his age. Unfair, really.

"Why?"

"Afraid that's for me to know, and you to never find out. Still think of me as some bratty kid?"

Steve shook his head, taking a step back. "I don't know what to think," was not the answer Tony had been anticipating.

:::

Tony Stark: playboy millionaire, the most recognized face strewn all over the news. Countless women and endless booze, this was the image he portrayed, and being a unlikable bastard was a lot easier than one might think. One morning as a petite brunette with more legs than body made her way out of the mansion, Steve was in the kitchen. Tony, with a smug look to his face, made for the coffee.

"I'm to assume she's not coming back," Pepper had commented, ordering him to go over the contracts for a deal they had made with a company in Japan.

"Hopefully not, but you'll make sure of that," he had said, pouring the warm liquid into a awaiting mug. The flat expression on her face was all the answer he needed before she carried off somewhere, probably to save his ass. Steve was putting a carton of eggs back into the fridge when they made eye contact. Tony raised a distinct brow. "What?"

"You like women now?"

"Shut up."

:::

The parties thrown in his honor were awful, and Tony hated the fact that he couldn't escape, not without losing a limb anyway. Tony shrugged, taking a sip out of the wine glass he had nestled protectively to his chest, he was sure he could build himself a new limb, but took a gulp instead. Besides, seeing Steve dressed up was not an opportunity he wanted to squander. Tony marveled at how bashful the 6'2 giant could be when praised for his hard work and good deeds, even when they turned on him…hated him, he continued to help, never knowing if they would love him again. They always came back, Tony mused, and the same was true for him.

Steve saw him, their eyes connecting and when he smiled at Tony, he made him feel like he was the only person left in this world that meant anything to him. Tony shivered, taking another gulp of a newly acquired drink he had to flag down a waiter for. The best thing about these events, Tony would argue, was that there was an endless supply of liquor to be had. Steve crossed the room, made his way to where Tony sat, hidden in the corner all to himself and greeted him accordingly. "Trying to slow my intake, Mr. America?" he questioned, forgetting what it was he was drinking exactly. For all he knew, it was poison.

"Not really. I wanted to know if you'd like to leave and go grab a burger or something." Tony stared at him, confused. "I'm hungry," was Steve's reply.

They never talked about Peggy, or his parents. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate for them at this time. They hardly commented on his childhood as well, almost like they were trying to separate that time period from this one. That night, it was no different; their conversation had stayed in what was the present and idly spoke of the possible future; it was not a topic Steve liked to talk about either. Tony didn't realize this until that specific night. The search for food was successful, feet carrying them back to the mansion where they sat on the sofa side-by-side.

A ageless hero afraid of the future, how ironic.

"You'll be around for a long time, Cap, and even if you're not, you'll be in the mind of the people forever." Tony doesn't remember how exactly they had led to this topic, but they had, and he was allowing his idol worship to spew everywhere.

"If I was like everyone else, I'd have been long gone by now…and just about everyone I've ever known is dead."

Tony realized then what Steve was getting at. Tony was the last person Steve really had that knew him like so few others did. One day, Tony would grow old and die, and Steve…well, Steve would still be there. The two men were sitting on the couch, meal completely forgotten as Tony leaned forward and pressed his lips against Steve's; this was the second time in his life he had attempted to kiss the blonde haired man, and this time had been much more successful than before. Steve didn't push him away, but he was hesitant to react.

Steve smelled of integrity and aftershave, and Tony had determined that he loved the two intermingled if it meant he was this close to him. Steve's hands were large; not like he hadn't noticed before, but it was much more obvious now. Their noses brushed together, a mess of rough lips trying to make sense. That hesitance was still there, though, and as much as Tony may have wanted this, had been touching himself to this very thought, he braced his hands against Steve's chest, pushing him away, or at least attempting to move him. The man was solid after all.

Tony didn't say anything, merely stood and left. Steve, much to his dismay, didn't try to stop him. Always the noble type, even when it hurt. That was the last time either had attempted anything, and after the whole ordeal with Wanda, there wasn't much to say. There was nothing to say, he figured, both realized that, no matter what, their past would not be erased and their future appeared dim at best. They hadn't seen each other much since, but not a day went by where he didn't think about him like that-lips sliding forcefully against his own.

:::

Absent mindedly, Tony brushed his fingers across the fuller part of his bottom lip. The door clicked open as Steve walked in, and without any warning. Tony wondered if he saw him as everyone else did, head of a billion dollar company or as the ten year old building prototypes with the furniture of his bedroom when he was grounded. Tony knew the answer. Steve smiled at him, and wasn't it sickening the way his heart sped up?

The damn thing barely worked.

Tony glanced at his reflection in the window adjacent from him, goatee styled and temples touched with a hint of gray. Tony was…well, he wasn't young anymore…and Steve, Steve appeared to be no older than mid thirties at best. Tony grimaced, it appeared he had not only caught up with Steve, he had surpassed him now. Time truly wasn't on his side, and it was a real swift kick to the groin. Like there weren't enough things going against him, but he refrained himself.

Tony smiled back, a smile that told of his many exploits and nonexistent shame. "Glad you could make it."

"Glad to be here," Steve spoke, and still, after all of this time, he dressed in the same casual garb he had always. A pair of khakis and a button down shirt were nice, but not for this day and age, not when Steve still blended in with the youth of this era.

The silence that overlapped them was a somewhat common occurrence. They had grown close as allies, and Steve treated him as a adult for the most part, but there was still this gentleness he projected towards him, like Tony was still this fragile infant he had held in his arms and made a promise to protect. "It's been a while," he commented as Tony rocked back on the springs of his office chair. He made a mental note to make the damn thing more sturdy before it broke.

"Just a tad," Tony said.

Steve looked around, hands smoothing down the front of his slacks as their eyes met for what seemed the millionth time over his life. "Miss having you around all of the time."

"Me, too. Well, now that we have that awkward mess all dished out, what can I do for you?" Tony peered at the clock on the wall behind him, four o'clock in the afternoon.

"What do you mean?"

"You came here for something."

"Yeah, for you. I came to see you," Steve said, brow line stitching together. "Didn't Pepper tell you that?"

Tony's face went blank, of course not. "Well, I'm here. You see me. I was under the impression that this was a business meeting of sorts," he spoke, looking to Steve who still seemed unsure of this whole situation. Tony felt under prepared.

"If you're busy…"

"Don't even start with that, you know I have absolutely no issue with dropping everything for you."

"I know."

"Then why do you bother to ask?"

"I guess to see if it's still true," Steve settled on.

Whatever Tony might have been prepared for was quickly discarded. With one last glance out the window, Tony stood and motioned for Steve to follow. Tony figured he had worked long enough for today, and all of his attention was absorbed by Steve and those impeccable blues, even his eye color screamed honesty and nobility. Tony wanted them to scream something else entirely. Somehow or another, he had convinced both himself and Steve back to his bedroom, or maybe it was the other way around; honestly, who cared?

That desperation was a new look on him, but Tony had seen it before, in his own eyes no less. The type of desperation that left little to no reasonable thought. There was no hesitance this time as Steve brought Tony in for a kiss, the first ever initiated by him, mouth gliding oddly perfect over his, and maybe he realized it-too. Quite possibly he had realized that time was running out, and he ought to make his last stand because, no matter what the odds were or who he was fighting against, Captain America never backed down. And that was quite possibly the greatest thing ever, Tony decides as Steve pushes him down onto his bed with an authority he could only possess.

While Tony wasn't a nineteen year old anymore, it didn't stop him from removing his pants in a time that would make his grandmother blush. Steve worked to remove his dress shirt, and why was he wearing so much clothing at a time like this? With their clothes finally departed, Tony couldn't help but to take the time and appreciate the flawless physique that Steve possessed. Tony's body was a lot unlike Steve's in the fact that he was smaller, less defined and much more scarred. Steve didn't waste any time in distracting and ridding of those unpleasant thoughts as their lips met again, Steve's fingers gliding down his side and causing a full body tremble to encase his entire being. That was new.

They did their best to never bring up the deep, white lines that danced across Tony's chest. At one time, they were an angry red and Steve couldn't stand to look at them, not because Tony was in any way disfigured, but because it shouldn't have happened. Steve blamed himself, blamed his not being there for Tony's injury and all the health complications that followed.

Their mouths clashed and Steve's teeth bit down firmly any chance they got along the skin of Tony's neck and collarbone. The solid weight of his body settled between Tony's thighs instead of directly on top of him, and yeah, that was probably for the best as Tony's wrists were pinned above his head, Steve's eyes blown wide with lust. Beautiful even when he was in the midst of doing what most others would consider filthy. Tony liked the look, but did not enjoy being pinned down (that wasn't particularly true, but that was for another time). The absence of his hands halted him in his quest to trace over Steve's muscles, the wide expanse of his well-built back and powerful thighs, not to mention those glutes he had only gotten a brief view of. Tony was more than willing to surrender when Steve rocked his hips up against him, though, rutting against his thigh. Tony bit his lip in an attempt to keep control, but couldn't retire the moan that flew pass his lips.

If Steve wouldn't allow him to touch, then Tony thought he would even the playing field by wrapping his legs around Steve's waist; rocking upwards and causing Steve's breath to hitch before releasing entirely way too shakily. Throwing Steve off always had its benefits, even thought it was far and few between he got to do so, but him releasing his death grip on Tony's wrists was one of those barely achieved reimbursements. Tony wasted no time in threading his fingers through Steve's hair, longer than usual, and that was more than amazing because it allowed him to tug harder than it would if it was his normal style. The growl Steve let lose was entirely animalist, and it made Tony want to do it again, earning him a bruising kiss and a firm hold on his ass. Steve was forceful, and Tony liked it; almost as much as he liked Steve's hand wrapped around his dick and that, as it turned out, was something he immensely enjoyed.

Tony's hands splayed along Steve's back, tracing down the lining of his spine, clutching his ass in both his hands. Steve gasped, eyes closing for a moment before regaining their composure. Tony moaned deeply, Steve's hand working faster, he didn't want to come yet, but at this pace it was looking like a real possibility. In a brief moment of clarity, Tony suggest that Steve move to his nightstand if he wanted this to go any further. When Steve moved away, Tony instantly regretted saying anything at all. Though the wait was well worth it, the view of Steve bending over in front of him was too great of a thing to pass up, especially as he got to watch him walk back.

"I, uh, how do you want to do this?" Steve asked, and since they started this he hadn't appeared so unsure.

Tony smiled. "Well, Cap, I always imagined you would stretch me out, nice and slow, and take me hard and fast when I was well and ready," and god, was that suppose to be sarcastic, but it only came out desperate. "Then again, I was fifteen at the time, so…" Steve cut him off, kissing him intensely, like he was the only thing keeping him alive.

Steve's fingers were warm inside of him, expanding the intense sensation of being filled. The slickness of his well prepared fingers was definitely helping, but it had been awhile, and this was taking much longer than he had anticipated it would. Steve was persistent, however, and with a quick flick of his wrist and a particularly lovely sweep of his tongue, he had Tony clawing at the sheets beneath him. Steve's face was pure concentration, and Tony was unraveling at the knowledge that he was working so hard to drive him over the edge. With a roll of his eyes, Tony smacked lightly at Steve, pulling him up for a kiss as he pleaded to be thoroughly fucked.

Steve flipped him over, hips propped up over a cased pillow as he ripped open the wrapper to the condom he had grabbed with the blunt of his teeth. Tony spread his thighs apart, propping himself up on his knees slightly as Steve's hand ran appreciatively over the flesh there. Steve's chest pressed up against Tony's back, one hand splayed across Tony's stomach as he tugged the lobe of his ear between his teeth, other hand guiding himself into Tony's body. Tony's let out a deep moan, head tossing back onto Steve's shoulder as he stole a kiss from the panting man moving inside of him, slow and hot, and almost too much for him to bear. The act of breathing became all the more difficult as Steve began to move, hips powerful and grip unrelenting.

Tony's body twisted and pulled in a wave of heat, skin hot to the touch as Steve continued to thrust at a increased pace, Tony's head dipping low as his grip tightened, both on the headboard and on Steve's wrist. When Steve's hand wrapped around him again, finding the rhythm they were already moving to, Tony had to seal his eyes shut, little gasps and groans filled the room around them. With some luck, and a whole lot of cursing in between, Tony was able to hold on for a few more minutes before releasing all over Steve's hand. Steve's pace slowed increasingly, hips steady as he kissed along the back of the other mans neck and in between his shoulder blades before he came. Tony rolled over onto his back, arm slung over Steve's chest as he caught his breath. The ache screamed through out his entire body, but he ignored it.

Captain America was in his bed.

Steve was right next to him, breath even as he drifted into sleep. Tony had tried to stay awake, to marvel at the man beside him, but eventually his lids grew too heavy and no amount of willpower would allow him to continue. A few hours had past, the sun was long gone but the faint light from the moon splayed across Steve's back, his head was hung low, spine naked and exposed. Tony sat up, almost too quickly as he crawled to where the other sat, placing a kiss to his shoulder. There was no way he was going to allow him to have second doubts about this, not again.

"You don't get to have doubts about this now, Steve," he pressed, moving into a sitting position behind him. The feel of their bodies sliding against each other cause both men to hiss and groan.

"I'm not," Steve protested, fingers dancing over Tony's hand the ran along his chest.

"You are," Tony stated, biting softly at the place between his shoulder and neck.

"I am."

While he couldn't see Steve, he could certainly sense that something was troubling him, and he had a few guesses as to what. "Then stop it, and come back to bed."

The next time Tony awoke it was due to the sun streaming in through his window, warming him and causing his eyes to hurt. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes; rolling over to his side to see Steve was still with him, one leg and one arm dangling off the side of the bed. Steve's other arm was outstretched, confining Tony to the spot in which he lay. The alarm clock on the night stand indicates that it is now eight o'clock in the morning, and he can hear the ticking resume in his mind. Taking the heavy limb, Tony places a chaste kiss to the strong digits.

There was a astronomical possibility that Steve would outlive him, super hero or not.

_Tick. Tock._

Their time together was limited, but he wouldn't say that all of the things that had led up to this point wasn't worth it.

_Tick. Tock._

In fact, it didn't matter at all now. The man he respected and loved, the hero he had worshiped, was here with him. Time, for all he cared, could simply fuck off.

The ticking stopped.


End file.
